


A Home With Wheels On It

by LeeMorrigan



Category: Midnight Texas (TV)
Genre: Bobo is mentioned, Dinosaurs, Dream Sequence, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Grandma Xelda, Lem is mentioned, Little Manfred, Manfred loved dinosaurs, Manfred's RV, Multi, Olivia is mentioned - Freeform, chosen familiy, friends are family, ghost grandma, name meanings, transitional object
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: Following the wedding and the new neighbors' arrival at the hotel, Manfred decides he needs to get his RV back, with all the family heirlooms hidden inside. Creek has a towtruck, Fiji has a great deal of curiosity about what all Xylda had in the RV. Includes a major flashback to the day Manfred came to live with Xylda.





	A Home With Wheels On It

**Author's Note:**

> I had to make up the names for Manfred's parents, since I haven't read the books, so I don't know if they reveal more than the show.  
> Contains a mother being somewhat mean and short with her son, when he's sleepy and/or seeing ghosts, then abandonment at the RV into Xylda's hands. Otherwise, I don't think there's much to trigger/upset anyone.  
> Written in anticipation of the second season- I'M SO EXCITED!

“You ready?”, Fiji asked with her usual wide, warm smile.

“Yeah, sure.”, Manfred answered, moving towards the door, jacket in hand.

“And thanks, again.”

“It’s no problem. Just glad you’re going to be able to get your RV back. It was your home for a long time.”

Manfred nodded, walking out with Fiji to her little VW bug. Somehow, when he learned that was what she drove, it didn’t surprise him in the least. It just seemed so Fiji. A brightly colored, new-edition of a hippie classic.

They rode out a bit, before Fiji seemed unable to stand Manfred’s silence. He hadn’t meant to be rude, his brain was just busy.

“You’re awful quiet over there.”

“Sorry, I uh… Just a lot on my mind.”

“The hotel?”

“Among other things.”

“Creek said you were seeing a lot of spirits howling at the hotel. That’s gotta cause a lot of headaches for you, I would think.”

“Yeah. More ghosts, more headaches. And these ghosts are…angry, upset.”

Manfred looked up to where Creek was ahead of them, driving her dad’s old tow truck. Turned out that for the past couple years before the truth came out and her dad left, that she had driven it for him whenever there was a tow job. Her dad was often too drunk and Conner wasn’t old enough, and as Bobo had pointed out when he offered to help, she was a better drive than almost anyone in town except Olivia.

The reason for the trip was to get Manfred’s old RV and tow it back to Midnight. The truck wasn’t really meant for towing something that big, so Creek wanted someone to ride with them, in case the tow truck could not handle the weight of the Bernardo RV. Fiji had volunteered, saying she also wanted to help Manfred unload the family heirlooms and such, once they got back to Midnight. He had promised, a while back when she was cleansing his house, that he would show some of them to her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. And Creek only mentioned it cause she was worried and wanted to know if there was something I could… brew up, to help your headaches. Since you aren’t taking the prescriptions anymore.”

He had yet to mention to anyone, except Creek, about how badly he had reacted to not-having them when he was in the desert. Manfred was trying not to keep secrets from Creek. She’d had enough of people doing that to her, for one lifetime. She had worried, of course. Her conversation with Fiji was evidence of that.

“Yeah, I told her that I was trying to go all-natural. She agreed there had to be safer ways to deal with the side-effects of my abilities.”

“I haven’t had much call to work on psychic-ability-induced-headaches, but I’m sure there’s gotta be something in my books somewhere, with a soup or a tea. I’ve got a couple ideas of some stuff I can make for you to drink, at least when you’re going to go to sleep, to help you not get sick or have your head throbbing when you wake up.”

“I’ll take any help I can get.”

Fiji smiled.

“Good. So, looking forward to getting your RV back? I bet you have a lot of memories in there.”

“I am looking forward to having it back. Kind of miss looking out the window and actually being able to see through the windows on the right side of my living room.”

That earned him a chuckle. Manfred noticed that, while Fiji hadn’t been somber or lacking in smiles when he first arrived in Midnight, she seemed to laugh more easily since she and Bobo got themselves sorted out. She was always smiling and laughing  whenever Manfred bumped into her. Even the hotel business hadn’t totally wiped that out of her yet.

The night of Olivia and Lem’s wedding, all she had done had been laugh with Bobo and Olivia, including the macarena she insisted Olivia, Creek, and Chuy do with her. Joe had chosen that moment to go get more ice for everyone’s drinks and to put under the desserts Fiji had fixed. Manfred had been busy helping Bobo sneak a wedding present into the hallway outside of Lem and Olivia’s apartment, so they could come back and find it near dawn. But both men had gotten back in time for a good show as Fiji, Olivia, Chuy, and a couple others were doing the macarena.

“That must have made for an interesting childhood, traveling all the time. Seeing all those new places, new people.”

“Sometimes.”

“My parents always wanted to travel, but they were too poor. That’s why they named us the way they did.”

“Kind’a wondered about name. Makes sense, I guess.”

“They would have signed up to travel with your grandma, _in a heartbeat_. Psychic stuff and all.”

The thought of that made him smile. His grandma probably would have enjoyed having people around who just enjoyed the traveling. As soon as Manfred had been old enough, she had him behind the wheel of the RV. She did not enjoy driving as much as she enjoyed traveling. Being that she was so good with maps and Manfred enjoyed driving, it had never been a hardship in his mind.

“Creek came out and put gas in it right, and it still didn’t run?”

“She tried gas, she tried the battery, she checked the spark plugs, and a bunch of other stuff that was Greek to me. None of it worked, so she thinks it is something she would have to have tools from the shop and lifts, to get it running again.”

“So you’re going to have her fix it up?”

“I don’t know.”

“What, you’re going to sell your home?”

“Maybe.”

“Might need to have Bobo and I come help you prep it then, before you sell it. Xylda had some pretty strong wardings and such on the RV. Some of them, I think, were to keep people from being able to sense the powerful artifacts she had tucked inside. Others, I think, were to protect you.”

“Protect me? From what? Bowie got in just fine, the Rev was tearing the roof off when he got loose during the full moon.”

“Ever notice you haven’t had anyone try to possess you inside the RV, that nothing wakes you from your sleep in the RV? I think she had it spelled to dampen the power of any spirit when they entered the RV. They can communicate with you but they can’t possess you or wake you from sleep. Probably part of why Ko…why the demon couldn’t seem to reach into the RV and was stuck trying to get to you from the house.”

“She never told me.”

Fiji smiled. Not that she had ever met Xylda, but from what Lem had said of her and what Manfred had shared, she seemed the type to have done a lot of stuff quietly and on the down low, to protect Manfred without alerting him that he had needed protecting. And it was obvious the woman had loved her grandson above all things.

“If I do sell it, I’ll have you and Bobo come over and see what needs taken out, so it isn’t an advertisement of what kind of stuff she was hiding in there.”

“The energy residue from most of it would be noticeable even after the wardings and cases were removed. Maybe more so.”

For a while, neither spoke. Some light jazz played over the VW’s radio. Manfred would not have pegged Fiji for a jazz person, though it would not have surprised him to find Olivia or Joe listening to it. Maybe the Rev. Fiji had struck him as a more Celtic choirs with a little 80s and 90s pop classics here and there, kind of person.

They drove a little further before Manfred began recognizing signs. He had only been out once, with Creek, since he left the van out here that night. He was still having nightmares from it. Faceless bodies laying around him, the stench of death suffocating him. He could still feel them in his sleep, their cold flesh pressed against him, the sweats and chills racking his body from a combination of detoxing and trying not to scream with fear.

Manfred felt a shudder run down his spine. He shifted in the seat, trying to disguise it as his butt getting numb or a cramp in his leg. If Fiji knew the truth about his shift, she was keeping quiet about it.

~*~*~*~*~

The RV looked no worse for the wear and the abandonment. Walking up to it, Manfred could still feel a weird echo of Xylda. He had been around a few houses and cabins that had held honeymooning couples or new families having a Rockwell painting Christmas or happy old bachelor uncles enjoying the porch, to know what kind of echo he was feeling. A life well-lived, a lifetime of happy memories Xylda had of watching Manfred grow up, and the security he had always felt inside of this place when he was still little enough to think Xylda’s old bed in the back was as big as a Montana sky.

Fiji and Creek stayed outside, talking and taking a few pictures of the pretty colors in the sky as the sun was just beginning to sink towards the horizon. Manfred took the opportunity to walk around the RV for a moment, alone. He had only gone in to try to start the engine, when he came out with Creek. He hadn’t really walked around or lingered.

Xylda’s room still smelled like her. Her favorite shampoo that Manfred thought was a little too sweet smelling, her hookah, the spices of the different fake-totems she made, the scented candles she preferred when she was trying to sleep, and her cream she used for her aching joints. It hurt as much as it comforted. He had grown numb to the smell, living in the RV after she died.

Running his fingers along the edge of the counter top, he could almost smell the last meal she cooked. Roasted chicken with some German side dish he couldn’t pronounce the name of. He remembered the chicken almost melted in his mouth. The side dish had a lot of potatoes. They were cheap at a store on the way to the hospital. Despite the chemo, she had been mad about hardy meals.

“Manfred?”

He turned to find Creek standing in the open doorway.

“I’m gonna start hooking up the RV. Is there anything that needs tied down or anything, before I start pulling her down the road?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get it all put away before you are pulling out.”

She nodded, looking a little worried.

“Okay. Fiji is going out to collect some kind of root. She’s got her phone though, so we can call her when we’re leaving if she isn’t back yet.”

He nodded, then Creek gave him a quick smile and headed out. He decided he wanted to start up front and work his way back to Xylda’s room. Manfred had always slept either on a seat when he was little, or on the table and benches once he outgrew the seat.

Xylda had tried to find a skinny bed of some sort, that she could put between the kitchen and the table, but nothing was ever thin enough. Eventually, when Manfred hit about 5’8, she had given up and made him a super-thick quilt with a super-soft top, to double and lay on the floor. He was able to stretch out his long legs when he slept, and he loved it. Just a big old, vibrantly colored quilt on the hard floor, and it had been heaven to Manfred.

He worked his way back, making sure everything was tied down, tucked away, or otherwise taken care of so he wouldn’t have broken pieces strewn about when he opened it back up in Midnight. He realized, as he worked, just how much he missed this thing. Missed having the four walls so close. He even missed the rattle of Xylda’s privacy curtain, with the strings of beads constantly banging as they drove down the road.

~*~*~*~*~

The drive back was nice. The sun was low and the sky had erupted in so many colors. It made Manfred think of the quilt currently holding half of Xylda’s perfume bottles and a couple old photo frames she had in shelves, in her bedroom. No matter what, he figured he would end up sleeping on that old quilt tonight, out in his living room. Maybe Creek would even join him, if he asked nicely.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing more of the stuff your grandma had tucked away.”, Fiji confessed.

“There’s a lot. I always used to think, when I was a kid, that Xylda had some magic powers besides seeing the dead and sensing things. I used to think she was some kind of witch, and making stuff smaller or hidden, was her magic power.”

Fiji chuckled a little.

“I used to think that was my aunt’s real power, when I visited her as a kid.”

They rode a while longer before Manfred pulled a small necklace out of the bag of things he couldn’t pack away as well as Xylda had. It had a bunch of circles and symbols cut into the wooden toggle at the bottom. It was a rectangle with glass beads wrapped around it and on a leather cord, also wrapped in little green glass beads.

“What is that?”

“Xylda had it hidden away. I found it when I was taking care of everything for the tow. It’s some sort of talisman. She used to put it around my neck when I first came to live with her. For the first time in a while, I was able to sleep. She tried it again, after I hit puberty. Didn’t work as well though, just dulled everything.”

Fiji thought, for a moment, about how it felt when she was at the sanitarium. In a padded room, all this stuff happening that she couldn’t explain, then blacking out as the room erupted in flames that didn’t harm her. As scary as she had thought that was, at least it had been a quick learning experience from Mildred, to calm her mind and form her intentions. As Fiji understood it, being a psychic-medium wasn’t as simple to train.

Fiji also figured that she had it better than Manfred for one reason, she had been in her teens when her abilities manifested as more than being able to sense other people’s moods and the energy of a place. Manfred, as he had said a while back, had barely been school age when he started seeing ghosts. He had been eight when his mom figured out what was going on. If she had been able to set fires at five, her parents would have had to move to a cinderblock house.

“It has some power, I can sense it. Almost feels like… like a warm hug or freshly baked biscuits on a cold winter morning.”

Manfred smiled, his thumb running across the front of the little talisman.

“Yeah. Guess it does.”

“I think she made that, I don’t think she had it or bought it. Must be in her books somewhere, and she made sure you could sleep. Same as how she warded the RV.”

“Sometimes I wish I could… just tell her, thank her, for all she did. I didn’t get a chance to do that before I left and she… crossed over.”

“I don’t know about the dead and ghosts and spirits the same way you do, but I am sure they can hear us. Maybe not the way they could if they were physically sitting in the room with us, but I firmly believe when we think about them, and when we remember them, that they know it somehow. That they feel it, and they know they are loved.”

Manfred let out a deep breath. Fiji could tell, without looking, that he was getting a bit choked up. The man didn’t seem afraid to show his emotions and even cry in front of people, though he did seem as if he still struggled with some of these kinds of conversations. Probably, she figured, in part because of growing up only being able to trust Xylda. He wasn’t accustomed to having the big, extended family that Midnight had become.

“Fiji?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She smiled.

“It’s what Midnighters do.”

“I know, just the same.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They were almost back to town before Fiji spoke up again.

“How long did you live in the RV? Did Xylda get it when you came to live with her?”

“No. She had been living in an RV of some sort since… before she had my mom. I don’t know exactly when, just that she pulled it over in a hospital parking lot, and by her own telling, waddled at great speed into the ER and told them to get her a doctor and some drugs, she was having a baby. When they let she and my mom out two days later, she took my mom back to the RV she had at the time, and they drove off. I remember Xylda commenting that she had forgotten to get my mom’s paperwork and a month later, had to drive back to get it and try to remember what hospital she went to.”

Fiji couldn’t help but chuckle. Without having personally known her, Fiji was sure she would have loved the crazy, free-spirited con-woman who raised Manfred.

“Did she meet up with your parents sometimes, to do Christmas or anything?”

Manfred turned to look at the side window and Fiji had her answer before he opening his mouth.

“No. I uh… I woke up to the sound of my mom riffling through drawers. I noticed she had been puffy-eyed and her hair was a mess. I asked if she was okay, and she yelled at me to go get dressed and put my shoes on. Wasn’t sure why, or where we were going but I had a gut feeling we weren’t coming back any time soon. So I stuffed my favorite toy into my shirt, put on my heaviest coat, my favorite sneakers, and stood there while she threw a few shirts and things into a pillow case. We drove all afternoon to a gas station, then waited for about four hours. I remember playing with a couple toys that were in the back of the car. Then Xylda pulled up, they talked, and I stayed with Xylda. Never saw either of my parents again.”

“Never?”

Manfred shook his head. Fiji got the impression there was more to the story.

“Did your mom have abilities like you and Xylda?”

“She couldn’t even tell when I was talking to ghosts. My dad couldn’t either, but when he found out about it, he just hugged me and reminded me that I needed to tell him if it was bothering me, and he promised me that he could always call my grandma, and she would know how to help if I needed it.”

“But your mom? She wasn’t as comfortable, I take it?”

“No. It always weirded her out when Xylda saw things she couldn’t, heard things she couldn’t. She didn’t handle it any better when I showed that I had inherited the Gift.”

Fiji’s heart broke for that little boy who saw ghosts and was shunned by his mother for such a gift. Although, it made her wonder what had caused his mother to snap and his dad to let him go. She wondered if Manfred’s mom had somehow talked his dad into it, she was the daughter of a con-woman after all, she might have learned the skillset even if she hadn’t inherited the psychic abilities. Or perhaps she had run out with tiny Manfred, while his dad was at work, and having grown up with a con-woman who traveled a lot, she knew how to cover her tracks. Though it sounded like Manfred’s dad may have had a direct line to Xylda, unless he had intended to ask his wife to call her mother, if they got worried it was too much for Manfred. She had so many questions.

They pulled into the town’s main drag before Fiji could ask any more. Then again, she figured Manfred had probably had enough emotional dredging for one evening. And he still had to check on everything inside the RV once they got into his driveway.

It took only twenty minutes for Creek to get the RV into place and off the towing rig. Manfred went through to check on all of Xylda’s breakables while Creek came over to Fiji, clearly worried.

“What do you think?”

“He definitely misses her, more than he wants to think about. And he misses his parents. He mentioned them, briefly, when I asked how long he had lived with Xylda. I didn’t realize, till today, just how young he had been when he got dropped at her RV.”

Creek nodded, then glanced over her shoulder at the RV. She was so young and yet she carried so much. It hurt Fiji’s heart a little, though she figured that Creek had all of Midnight looking after her from ‘Uncle Lem’ to Chuy dropping off a soup that he knew she loved. Most of all, she had all of Manfred. It was clear he would do anything for her.

“Well, I have a shift I need to get to. With the hotel opening, and the new management, they’ve got Madonna staying open 24-7.”

“Yeah. Still trying to figure out what their deal is.”

“I don’t know, but I already know I don’t like it and I don’t trust them.”

Fiji grinned.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Olivia and Bobo.”

“You’re one to talk.”, Creek teased back, before walking up to the RV. She stayed in for a few minutes before coming out with a smile and slightly smudged pink-colored chapstick.

After Creek had gone to do her shift at the diner, Fiji pulled out a tin of cookies and handed them to Manfred. He looked at them, half-expecting them to be her infamous sanddollars, only to find they were double peanut butter. His favorite.

“How did”, Fiji interrupted, “Creek.”

Manfred quirked his head to an angle, confusion clear on his face.

“She mentioned, off-hand, that you were a peanut butter freak when it came to sweets. I figured that meant, when most people would dive head-first into a bin of chocolate fudge, you’d rather have some peanut butter cookies with peanut butter chunks.”

“That is very true. Xylda used to make peanut butter fudge for me on my birthday and Christmas. Sometimes she made peanut butter pancakes, too.”

Fiji nodded, even more glad now that she had taken that leap when she heard Creek’s comment. The girl had been shrugging at how weird, but in a good way, Manfred was.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to help you unload. Some of this stuff is pretty powerful and I think I might have to put together a few things. To block some of the energy coming off of them.”

“Why? I don’t think she had anything bad in there.”

“No, but you said yourself that you don’t know how to use half of these things your grandma had tucked away. Having objects that powerful, in such close proximity when you don’t know how to use them and you’ve got the mojo to do powerful things with them, is dangerous. I’d say leave them in the RV for tonight, until Bobo and I can come over and help. I can get wardings and such in place, then we can move stuff without worrying about you getting possessed or attracting too much spiritual attention.”

Manfred had to agree. He hadn’t thought about it until Fiji said it, though she was completely right. Xylda hadn’t gone to so much trouble for nothing.

“Thank you.”

“You’re going to wear those words out, Manfred.”

He smiled.

“Well, the prophecy is over, town’s safe again, and you guys keep doing stuff for me. I’m not just a tramp who was useful for a time. You’ve made me welcome.”

“You aren’t a tramp, or anything of the sort. You fought for us, you saved everyone. And _you’re family_ now.You fought for us, we're sticking with you.”

“Yeah, never was a fighter. More of a runner.”

Fiji let out a breath, an idea coming to mind. Ever since she was quite young, she had been fascinated with names. Their origins, meanings, evolutions, why people picked certain names for their kids, how certain last names came to be. Usually it wasn’t useful information.

“Do you know what Manfred means?”

He shook his head.

“I was so used to my grandma calling me ‘Manny’ or introducing me as ‘the Great Manfredo’, I just assumed it was an old, stupid, family name.”

“It’s Germanic. It means, ‘Man of Peace’. You weren’t named for soldiers or kings, you were named for a man who brings peace. Oddly fitting for a Psychic-Medium, and very fitting for you, Manfred.”

He smiled, “I don’t know, I think someone should have named the Rev ‘Manfred’ then.”

“No. He fights every day. We just don’t see it most of the time.”

“Thanks, Fiji.”

“You’re welcome, Manfred. And I’ll be back tomorrow, and I expect a few of those cookies to be missing when I do.”

He grinned, looking almost like a naughty child.

“Yes ma’am.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Manfred could hear rustling. And banging. For a moment, he wondered if the neighbors were having a party. Or if his daddy was throwing a party. His mom’s birthday was next week, so maybe the party was early to surprise her.

Rising from his dinosaur sheets, Manfred made his way down the hall, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He didn’t smell cake or hot wax from the candles. Daddy always overdid the candles. Mom always yelled at him about it, especially when it was _her_ cake.

At the end of the long, long hall, Manfred stopped. There was no party, no cake, and no Daddy. Just mom, shoving something into a large suitcase she had laid across the coffee table. She looked like she had been crying.

“Mom?”

Her head shot up and she glared at him. She had been doing that a lot lately. And at Daddy too.

“Go to your room, get dressed.”

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about it, just do as you’re told.”

Manfred turned around, deciding not to say anything about her voice sounding like auntie Clara when she had come back from one of her rock concerts. He then walked back to his room and looked around. He didn’t feel like changing, it was just too early. So Manfred kept his dinosaur PJs on, slipped on his favorite sneakers with the glow-in-the-dark T-rex across the laces, his favorite puffy jacket, and then went over to his bed for the last bit of any adventure he was about to take. Freddie.

Once he had Freddie, his favorite longneck dinosaur, he was ready. Then he remembered how his mom hated that Daddy let him sleep with Freddie. That big boys didn’t need to have stuffed animals to sleep with, that Daddy was just babying him. Hearing Mom coming up the hall, Manfred quickly shoved Freddie into his shirt and zipped his jacket shut. He hoped his mom wouldn’t notice.

She walked in, a pillowcase in her left hand and her shoes already on. Mom hated shoes on the carpet. Manfred was worried.

Frantically, his mom threw the first handful of shirts from his middle drawer into the pillowcase, then she grabbed a couple pair of his jeans, some socks and underwear, then she moved to the closet, grabbing his hat, gloves, and one hoodie. The pillowcase was stuffed and Manfred thought it might tear in her tight grip.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To the car, Manfred. To the car. Is it so hard to do as you’re told?”

She turned, walking so quickly down the hall that Manfred had to sprint to keep up. Outside, he noticed Daddy’s car was gone and the street was eerily quiet. He also noticed that Mom’s suitcase was sitting in the back as it hung open.

His mom threw the pillowcase into the back seat, then turned to Manfred. He still had to be in a booster, because of his weight more than his height, and Daddy always insisted. His mom gestured for him to climb up into the car, and he did. Then she put the seatbelt on him, not as careful as Daddy was, then slammed the door so hard that it hurt Manfred’s ears.

Once she was behind the wheel, she almost backed over their trashcan in her hurry to get out. Manfred watched out the window, scared of asking too many questions. Usually, his parents told him where they were going, and days in advance. He could tell that they were leaving the neighborhood though.

He watched, seeing several of his friends out playing in the yards. A few floated by the car, striking silly poses and faces, making Manfred laugh.

“Don’t do that!”

Manfred sat up, looking around, trying to figure out who his mom was yelling at. There were no other cars on the road. No deer either.

“Who are you talking to, Mom?”

“You, and that freaky thing you’re doing. Stop it. They aren’t real.”

“Yes they are.”

“No! Manfred, they are NOT! Now stop being a creep and take a nap or something. Just be quiet.”

He nodded, then looked back at his friends. They were making angry faces at his mother. Manfred shrugged, unable to talk to them or explain. Then he looked ahead. Left would take them to his school, straight would take them into town where Daddy liked to go for ice cream or to take Manfred skating in the wintertime, but Mom turned right. He didn’t know where Right went.

More faces came, most of which were new and he didn’t know them. Without having a watch, Manfred could not be sure, but he thought hours had passed. The sun dipped lower in the sky, the way the trees looked changed, and he got very, very hungry. He was a bit afraid to mention that to his mom. She had not spoken since she yelled at him back home.

Then, seemingly for no reason, his mom pulled into a little gas station. There hadn’t been another building forever, and the gas station seemed alone in a grassy field. There wasn’t even another car. Just a guy in a stained gray shirt and blue jeans, chewing some gum, and staring at the skyline.

“Stay in the car.”, his mom ordered before she went inside. Manfred stretched to watch her. She came back out and went to the payphone, putting in a quarter and dialing a number. A second later, she was making a terrible face and yelling into the phone. She hung up so hard the whole rain shield shook.

His mom walked back to the car, still scowling and looking very mean. She pulled his door open and let out a breath.

“Do you need to pee?”

He shook his head.

“Your grandma ought to be here soon.”

“Grandma Xylda? I haven’t seen her since Christmas!”

He was excited. Grandma Xylda usually only came for his birthday and Christmas. She lived in a house with wheels on it, traveling all over the country and even into Mexico and Canada. She promised, when he was older, she would let him ride with her one summer to see the world a little. He was excited for that.

And so they waited. And waited. Manfred’s stomach began to growl loudly, drawing his mom’s attention. She got out of the car and went back into the store, the man in the stained shirt following her. She got a few things, then came back out, tossing Manfred a packet of jerky. He didn’t like jerky. But he was hungry and so he ate the jerky.

At some point, he fell asleep. He was woken by the sound of loud voices. Stretching to turn and look behind the car, he could see his mom and grandma, yelling at each other. His mom was waving her arms around, her face red as she shouted. His grandma had her hands fisted, resting on her hips, and she was also yelling.

Then, they stopped. His grandma turned and walked over to the car. Manfred knew better than pretend to be asleep. Grandma always knew when he was faking.

She opened the door and he could smell the familiar scents. Her sweet shampoo, the incense she burned in her house, the thing she smoked and made mom so mad, and the spices of little packets she made for her customers. He would have known the smell of Grandma Xylda and her house, anywhere.

“Hey kid. Grandma’s gonna help you out of that contraption. Where’s your stuff?”

He pointed to the pillowcase, then looked back at his grandma. The look on her face was similar to his daddy’s before daddy would have a talk with the teachers about them allowing kids to bully on Manfred. Or that look his daddy got sometimes lately, when his mom was harsh with him about the ghosts.

“Here, we’ll get you out first.”

She unbuckled him with ease, then helped him get down from the car. Then she reached back in to get his pillowcase and snag his toys from the seat and floor. He had to help her carry the last couple as they walked to her house. His mom never said a word or looked at them. She just stood with her arms crossed, over by the payphone.

Once Xylda had his stuff laid out on the little sofa, she smiled at him. He liked his grandma’s smile.

“I’m gonna go have a word with your mama before she leaves. You just stay in here, okay? Don’t come out till you’re called?”

He nodded, crossing his heart with one finger to let her know he meant it. She smiled a little wider, yet Manfred could tell she was sad, and angry. She left to go talk to his mom, but as he watched out the window, his mom mostly yelled, then shoved Xylda out of her way so she could walk back to her car. Xylda tried to stop her by standing in front of the car, but his mom backed up, turned quickly, and shot off from the gas station.

Xylda huffed, saying a few words Manfred knew were not for his ears, then she walked back to her house. Despite how angry she had been, she smiled at seeing him on her sofa. Then she seemed to notice something.

“You don’t have to hide Freddie.”

Manfred pulled his stuffed dinosaur from his shirt. Freddie smelled like home, and a little like Daddy’s aftershave. Daddy always made sure to get Freddie when they traveled, and Freddie always smelled like Daddy’s aftershave. Plus, when he had nightmares, he and Freddie slept next to Daddy in the bed, so he figured that’s why Freddie always smelled like aftershave.

“How long am I staying for, Grandma?”

“I don’t know, Manny. Probably for a while. Your mom… there are just some things going on right now she has to deal with. Grown-up things. And she doesn’t want you to see all that grown-up stuff, so she’s letting you stay with me instead. We’re gonna have fun, you and me, Manny. We can travel, just like I promised you. I have a job in Galveston. But after that, the world is at our feet, Manny. We can go to any state we wanna go to. Even Hawaii if we think light enough thoughts.”

Manfred smiled, laughing a little. This was going to be fun, and he still had Grandma and Freddie. He was looking forward to his adventure with Grandma, just as long as he got to go home when it was done. He already missed Daddy.

“Can I call home every now and then?”

“To talk to your mama?”

He nodded a little, “And check on Daddy. He’s been tired a lot lately, he even falls asleep on the floor in my room sometimes when he’s reading me a bedtime story. I just put one of my blankets over him and go to sleep.”

Xylda looked a bit angry again, but then smiled.

“He’s a good daddy, you know. We’ll try calling on Saturday. He should be home, right?”

Manfred nodded. Sometimes his daddy had to work on Sundays, but he almost always had Saturday off. They used to go get ice cream and run errands on Saturdays. They were Manfred’s favorite day of the week.

“Okay.”, Manfred said before his stomach growled again.

“Let’s fill that belly of yours with something more filling than gas station jerky. I’ve got some leftover pasta I made yesterday. That sound good?”

Manfred nodded excitedly. Grandma Xylda was a really good cook. And she made excellent peanut butter fudge. She quickly got to her fridge and began pulling out some dishes, including some garlic bread and some meat balls.

Then, Manfred woke with a start. Looking up, he saw that he had fallen asleep on the sofa, watching TV on his laptop, while he was waiting up for Creek. She was supposed to work till 4AM, if they got everything tidy and such. Sometimes she stayed a little bit to help Madonna put stuff away, but then she would text him to let him know and keep him from worrying. Manfred had some issues with people not-showing up when they said, and that was before a vampire had tried to snack on Creek and a serial killer turned out to be living down the street.

He checked his phone, seeing he didn’t have a message from Creek and it was only 1:49AM. So he sighed and decided to pull out that quilt and curl up on the floor to wait for Creek. When she got home, she could either tug on his arm and ask him to come to bed with her or she could join him, whatever she preferred.

He unfurled the quilt, letting it lay at it’s full width rather than doubling it as he had done in the RV. He also had a couple pillows from the sofa to lay up for he and Creek’s heads. It smelled of incense, hookah smoke, and too-sweet shampoo. Manfred smiled, curling onto his side, and thinking of what Fiji had said earlier about when you think or talk about a departed loved one.

“Goodnight, Grandma.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Creek had come home at 4AM and found Manfred sleeping on the floor, on a brightly colored, well-worn quilt. It seemed thick enough to park a car on without the tires feeling the firmness of the floor, and reminded her of posters for JOSEPH AND HIS TECHNICOLOR DREAM COAT. Too tired to drag herself back to the bedroom or rouse her boyfriend, Creek had just kicked off her shoes and slid under the covers to wrap an arm around Manfred’s middle. It had been one of the best night’s sleep she had ever gotten.

When she woke at noon, she smelled coffee. Looking up, bleary-eyed, she could make out Manfred’s back and neck over the counter of his kitchen. He was in front of his coffee maker, that made the really persnickety coffee he preferred. Creek wasn’t as particular. She liked caffeine.

She looked around, unable to find her purse or phone. She checked the blankets, looked over at the couch, and even started trying to mentally recount her steps from the time she took off her apron to when she curled up with Manfred. Creek was about to start retracing her steps physically when Manfred pressed a cup of fancy coffee into her hand.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Haha. Did you see my purse or phone when you got up? I think I might have left them at Madonna’s desk.”

“No, they were next to the quilt, so I put your purse on the bedside table and your phone on the charger for you.”

She smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Well, you climbed into this old thing, with me, and didn’t complain, so I figured I needed to be an extra-good, brownie-point earning boyfriend.”

That made her chuckle. She was still getting used to actually calling him her boyfriend, openly. It made her sleep-fuzzed mind a little giddy to hear him teasing about it. And she felt so comfortably domestic with him, crouched in front of her, in his baggy PJs pants and faded old shirt.

He looked at her cup, seeing she had already downed half of the coffee he poured her with the two sips she had taken. It was noon, so it did not surprise him that she was sucking down any caffeinated beverage that presented itself. Even his fancy coffee.

“I’ll get the next serving going.”

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he left, then she headed to the sofa. Her joints popped as she moved. Sliding into her preferred seat, she noticed Manfred’s laptop on the table, the lights indicating it was on. With her watch at Bobo’s for him to put a new battery in and her phone in the bedroom, she was itching to know the time.

Creek tapped a key, bringing the screen back to life. As she glanced to check the time, she noticed what else was on the screen. An internet search for Henry Enderson. Judging from the picture, it wouldn’t take a genius to make the leap how he was related to Manfred. Creek recognized that wild, untamed dark hair, the familiar hairline. A straight nose, cleft in the chin, and dark eyes, though in a black and white photo it was hard to tell if they were a dark hazel like Manfred’s or simply brown like her own.

His conversation with Fiji and getting the RV must have flipped a switch. Manfred hadn’t told her too much about his childhood, though he had told her that from the best he had pieced together, his mother had taken him, dropped him at Xylda’s and either told his father that it was for the best and conning him into believing it, or she had simply done a good enough job of covering her tracks to keep Henry from finding them.

Since the stuff with her own family, Manfred had been careful how he spoke about his dad. She figured he was trying to protect her, by not being careless with his words. Though he was getting better about not-treating her like she was made of glass. It was a work in progress, to use one of Fiji’s terms.

“Manfred?”

“Yeah?”

“Want to take a drive later?”

He always talked better when he was in a moving car. Probably a result of growing up in a house with wheels, and also because you didn’t have to look into the eyes of the person you were talking to. Made things less intense. The person you were talking to was beside you, not staring down at you.

“Sure. But I thought you had to work tonight?”

“Nah. New owners are doing a couple things with the pipes or something, so the restaurant is gonna be closed till Thursday. Maybe Friday.”

“Maybe we should go into, … what was the name of that town, the one with the Italian place you like?”

“Mama Selina’s in Caroltown.”

“Yeah, that one. Wanna go? We could drive down, eat, get a hotel room, walk around for the day, get some sleep, and head home.”

Turning to look back at him, she smiled.

“Sounds great. I better go pack a bag and then maybe take a quick shower. I smell like greasy potatoes.”

Manfred came over, looming upside down as he stood behind the couch. He leaned down, his nose brushing against her hairline playfully.

“I dunno, smells good to me.”

“Charmer.”

He grinned and she kissed his chin before getting up for that shower. She was looking forward to their little impromptu vacation. They just had to wait for Fiji and Bobo, so they could get some things out of the RV. Assuming Manfred still wanted to.

Once Creek was in the shower, Manfred pulled up his laptop. He pulled up the info he had found on Henry Enderson. Legally, his name had been Manfred Jacob Enderson. When he turned 18, he had gone to get ID that was real. A driver’s license. No small feat for someone who did not have a permanent residence in any state, no social security card, and no birth certificate to pull out a lock box.

His mom hadn’t left his paperwork with Xylda. Xylda figured it was payback for Xylda’s old story about forgetting to get the paperwork when she gave birth to Matilda. So Xylda had rustled up some fake documents with the name Manfred Bernardo on them, and that was what he took to the DMV of Navada. And that was who he had been ever since.

Henry Enderson had been gone from his life since Manfred was eight. And as much as he missed his mom those first few weeks, he had gotten older and figured out that she dumped him for being what he was. His daddy, however, he had never stopped missing. Part of him worried that his daddy had looked for him, and maybe thought the worst. His mother hadn’t been the most-stable of people, it would not be a terrible leap for Henry to make.

Maybe, while he was out with Creek, he would talk it over with her. Get her take on it. If he should look up Henry, to at least talk to him and see what the man thought or knew. Or if he should leave things as they were.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapping at his door. He smiled. Fiji and Bobo. Time to get to work.


End file.
